


Q and the Warrior

by H4T08



Series: Behind the Door [20]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bribery, Coffee, Episode: s03e11 Q and the Grey, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H4T08/pseuds/H4T08
Summary: Floating across the room with a large cup of bribery in the form of coffee in his hands, Q tisks, “Oh, come now, Kathy. There is no need to get your Starfleet panties in a twist so early in the morning. I have just come to make you coffee – a well loved concoction, I have heard from many reputable sources – with the hopes of a peace treaty.” Waving the steaming cup under her nose, he offers her the handle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place during the episode "The Q and the Grey", with this chapter taken place before Wifey Q shows up.

_That glorious smell,_ her mind recognizes as the best smell to ever wake up to, tickles her nose. Not even daring to open her eyes, Kathryn takes another deep breath and mildly wonders where she is at.

"La-Dee-Da-Dee, La-Dee-Da-Dee, La-Dee-Da-Dummmm-Dum-Dum.”

 The annoying sound of the very person she did not want in her quarters drifts in from her living area. Growling as she slips out of her warm covers, she throws her robe on and walks out with every intention to kick his scrawny ass out. “Q! I've told you a million times already and I will tell it to you a million more times if I have to. I will--”

 Floating across the room with a large cup of bribery in the form of coffee in his hands, he tisks, “Oh, come now, Kathy. There is no need to get your Starfleet panties in a twist so early in the morning. I have just come to make you coffee – a well loved concoction, I have heard from many reputable sources – with the hopes of a peace treaty.” Waving the steaming cup under her nose, he offers her the handle.

 Eyeing him suspiciously, the intoxicating scent nearly drives her to the brink of surrender – _nearly being the operative word_. “What's the catch?”

 Dramatically throwing his fingers against his chest, he sighs, "Moi? Oh, come now, Capitan. When has my intentions been anything less than honorable?”

 Pinning him with a death glare that would make her momma proud, she sarcastically asks, “The list can reach the Alpha Quadrant earlier than we can.”

 “Fine! I like to win. Is that what you want to hear from me? But this is not a game, damn it!” Slamming the mug down on the table next to him with a loud clunk, he expertly brushes his desperation away with an annoying smirk and leans his head on her shoulder. “My love for you has never been a game.”

 Pushing him away with the roll of her shoulder, she crosses her arms and purses her lips in defiance.

 Trying a different angle, he picks the cup up and shows it off with the flick of his jazz hand. “You know, my dearest Kathy, this is the best coffee that you will ever drink in the galaxy. The beans are only grown at a specific time of the year on a world with far richer soil than Earth could ever imagine. It is so renowned for its delicate taste, that even the glitziest of glamour celebrities couldn't even get an ounce without selling one of their kidneys.” Rushing around the table with his arms wide open, he exclaims, “Today, Kathy, is your lucky day!” With a snap of his fingers, barrels upon barrels of coffee beans appears in her quarters.

 The delicious aroma fills her nostrils in an instant as she looks around in amazement. Again, she almost concedes to give him whatever the hell he wants.

 Almost.

 “Q, return this back to where you stole it from.” It actually physically hurt saying it, but she told herself that she shouldn't be swayed by materialistic things – _a materialistic thing that, in my humble, scientific opinion, has magical powers_. At his dejected look, she knows she is making the best decision.

 “Fine!” Moodily, he snaps his fingers and the droves of coffee sadly disappears from her quarters, except for the one cup left on the table. “What in the hell will change your mind?” Stepping into her personal space once more, he pleads, “I can give you anything your heart desires!”

 Quirking her eyebrow, she grumpily replies, “You leaving is a good start.”

 Ignoring her, he happily lists, “I can bring Voyager right back to Earth’s doorstep. I can take you to places you have only dreamed about. I can,” widening his eyes with a sharp intake of breath, he bursts out, “I can take you to the planet where the coffee grows. You can live there growing and drinking coffee until the day you die.”

 Getting rather irritated that he keeps dangling Earth in front of her as if their voyage home was a snap away, her patience breaks when she snarls, “And what makes you think my body is capable of having children?” Covering her mouth with her hand, she instantly regrets her outburst. She had meant to say ‘having **your** child’, but her words came out quick and without any thought as to who she was speaking to.

 Clasping his lips shut, Q actually puts some thought into what is needed to be said. “I know about your miscarriages,” he says with an air of compassion she had yet to hear from him. “What makes you believe that you would have those problems with an omnipotent acting as the baby’s father?”

 The words sounded silly coming out of his mouth, yet the seriousness crossing through his features made her believe that he was asking an earnest question.

 Furrowing his brow, he dully adds, “In fact all of it; conception, pregnancy, birth and labor can be done within a moments time in the Continuum with no pain for you to bare.”

 Holding up her hand and shaking her head to better understand his words, she begins, “So, let me get this straight,” she flicks her wrist in the direction of his hand and asks, “Within a snap of your fingers we could have a baby Q sitting between us?”

 Looking down at his fingers as if they are the solution to any and every problem, he clarifies, “I said a moments time, not a second.” Crossing his arms protectively over his chest, he defends, “I'm good, but not that good.” Noticing her scientific logical mind churning at a high speed at the time it would take for the baby to come to fruition, he smugly leers, “It's cute that you humans still believe that time is constant and linear, however, time can be –  how did my time friend put it? – oh, yes, wibbly-wobbly in the Continuum.”

 Rolling her eyes at his lack of words that make sense, she questions, “And how would having a baby in the Continuum affect a human baby?”

 Throwing his hands in the air, Q impatiently yells out, “I don't know and frankly why would I care?”

 Throwing her own hands in the air out of frustration, she yells back, “Because if you are this passionate about bringing a child into this galaxy, then you have to be able to think through all of the ramifications of the choices you are about to make. Otherwise, why go through so much trouble to convince me to have a child?”

 "Ah! But don't you see, I don’t have to convince you.” At the obnoxious roll of her eyes, he evenly says, “You want a child just as badly as I do. Ever since you had found out about Justin Jr. and had lost him in the process, you have been secretly craving a little one to call your own.” Puffing out his chest and standing up straight, he calls out, “Well, here I am; ready and willing to fertilize you and to make sure that you will be able to carry this one to full term,” teetering his hand side to side, he adds, “give or take a few seconds.”

 “It was a boy?” Her words tumble out of her mouth in a heated whisper that Q was unable to pick up through the course of his own big head in the way. For years, she had always wondered what they were going to have if the baby had come to full term. At the time, devastated by the loss of both Justin and her father in the same day, the added loss of their child had paralyzed her into believing that she didn't care what sex the baby was. A decision she had regretted for a long time. _He is right_ , she reasons quietly to herself. _I have wanted a child so badly that I would have gladly given up Starfleet just to give myself the required bedrest I knew I would need to take in order to have a healthy child._ _But to gain that lofty goal with Q?_ “My answer is still no.”

 Shrugging his shoulders, he snidely quips, “Stubborn as a Klingon I know. Fine, you win this battle, but I am far from finished in trying to persuade you to see reason.” And with the snap of his fingers, he disappears.

 Threading her fingers through her hair at how many times she could have given into Q, she gladly takes the now cool coffee with her into the bathroom to get ready for the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after the episode, "The Q and the Grey". 
> 
> There will also be the same liberties taken and discussions from the story "Evolved".

“Fine. Hold up your pointer finger.” Turning onto her side pushing herself up onto her elbow, Kathryn shivers as the thin sheet slithers past her bare breasts. When he proffered his finger like she had asked, she taps it with the tip of her own pointer finger. Looking at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she says, “That was it.”

"That was all?" Letting his hand fall down onto the bed, Chakotay presses his lips together and seriously asks, “One touch and done?”

Smirking as she sits up against her pillow, she slyly nods and gloats, “Yup. It took about two seconds for both to reach a mind blowing orgasm AND to conceive.”

Pressing his two fingers against his lips to keep from laughing outright, he murmurs, “It seems like such a--”

“—letdown? Yes, I know.” Gliding her nimble fingers to arrange her long hair into a braid, she shrugs her shoulders and sighs, “However, far be it from us to judge their type of sexual lifestyle. For all we know, they can view our mating rituals as tedious and long winded.”

He sits up with a devious twinkle in his eyes, “You mean thoroughly satisfying?”

Giving him a smoldering smile, she leans towards him and purrs, “Extremely.” Turning back so that she is staring out of his window, she crisscrosses her legs and finishes out her braid. “Far be it from me to tell him what he was missing out.”

Rolling his eyes as his nose flares in annoyance, he sourly sneers, “The little twerp. You would think with all of his omnipotent power at his disposal, he could have chosen anyone else in the whole damn galaxy to mate with!”

Numbly twirling the ends of her hair through her fingers, she slowly murmurs, “Deep down, I actually found it to be an honor.”

His jaw drops wide open, he sarcastically beseeches, “Really?”

She rolls her eyes at his outburst, “I would have never done it. It just… I don’t know.” Feeling his stare penetrating a part of her that she has always kept to herself, she shrugs her shoulders and mutters under her breath, “It's stupid.”

She can hear him taking a deep breath to calm his anger. “Do want children of your own?” The hand that he lays on her knee under the sheet is gentle.

She bites down on her bottom lip, “It was never a question of want, I'm just not able to physically have children.” Closing her eyes, she mentally berates herself at where this conversation is going. Just mere seconds ago they were flirting and now she has just confessed to a secret she has gladly kept hidden from most of the people she loves and trusts.

“You know,” her voice hitches as a quiet sob clenches around her throat, “with Q’s omnipotent power, he knew that my body is… defective when it comes to having children. And yet, he still wanted to mate with me.” She chuckles to herself, “He had said that with his power, we didn't even need to wait nine months for a baby to be born.”

Lifting her quivering chin, she looks at him through the watery telescope of her unushered tears and quietly confesses, “I was so close at giving in.” Finding both the conversation and the weight of his hand to much for her to carry, she abruptly throws her legs over the edge and pushes off of the bed. Stepping up to the window with the unknown star systems as her only witness to the churning of emotions that are currently wreaking havoc on her body, she wipes the stray tear from her face.

In the reflection of the glass, she can see him throwing the sheet off of his body and pulling on his discarded boxers. Stepping just behind her, she can feel the warmth of his palm as he reaches out to touch her. He is hesitant, timid to give her the affection she’s not sure if she wants to receive.

Seeing his hand reach out and retract several times, doubt crossing along his soften features, she takes the initiative to allow him to comfort her. Turning around, she slowly opens herself up, like a flower opening for the first time towards the sun, and presses herself against his chest. Instantly, relief blossoms within her chest.

He kisses the crown of her head and murmurs against her soft hair, “I had never thought of having children. Burdened with mission after mission in Starfleet and then my rise in rank with the Maquis, I never wanted to bring a child into this life of fleeting glances and sickening worry if he would ever see me again. Then Seska gave birth to her son that I had thought was my own and after my initial disgust, I had come to look on the child more as a blessing than a curse.” Staring out into the great expanse of the stars, he lightly confesses, “When the Doctor told me that he was biologically not my son, a part of me died. It scared me how much I wanted to be a father.”

Wrapping her arms tighter around his chest, she takes comfort in the subtle drumming of his heart. “Mark and I had dated for about a year when we decided to move in together. Just before shipping out on a six month mission, I had found out that I was pregnant. I didn't tell Mark about it. I knew how it was going to end, yet, I was holding out for the best. The next night, I was studying the basic schematics of a nebula for my captain when it happened.”

Taking a deep breath, the memory of that night replays cruelly in her mind; _the sharp pain low in her belly as if I was being stabbed with a dull knife, the ache in my leg muscles from clinching my thighs together, and worse, after all was said and done, the heartbreaking depression at my body’s inability to protect an innocent life._

“When I found out, I considered putting in for a desk job to be closer to Mark if the pregnancy had gone beyond its tumultuous beginning.” She snuggles in closer into his chest, “Tuvok was there with me when he took me to my family doctor in Indiana. He stayed with me and held my hand when Dr. Malick had to perform the procedure.” Letting her words hang in the air just as the memory begins to suffocate her, she mutters under her breath, “I never really knew I wanted something so badly until I found out that I could never have it.”

“Was that the only time you had miscarried?”

“No, but I don't want to talk about it.” Seeing his eyes bristle with remorse and an apology on the tip of his tongue, she turns back to their Delta prison and blurts out, “He still doesn't know about it.”

He kisses the top of her head before asking, “Who?”

“Mark.” Her hands fall listlessly to his hips, guilt bitterly coating her tongue at the many things she had not told him. “He still doesn't know that I had miscarried our child.”

“Do you feel guilty for not telling him?”

She cringes at the bite in his voice, however she knows it is a legitimate question that even Tuvok had posed in his own Vulcan way when she had told him that night not to call Mark. Slipping out of the warmth of his chest, she presses her back against the cool glass and reprimands herself with an outreached hand, “I should have told him, but I was ashamed. I felt unworthy of his love because I could not bare a child – his child – naturally.” Letting her hand fall into her lap, she ashamedly murmurs under her breath, “I know, it was incredibly selfish of me.”

Glancing down at the floor, he tugs on his ear and murmurs, “The act itself was not selfish, it was your personal way of grieving. You should have given him a chance to at least comfort you.”

Her chin sinks deep down into her chest at his brutal honesty.

"Is there a way that you can still have kids?"

His words, hopeful and bright, has her lifting her eyes back up to him and sarcastically quipping, “You mean without having Q’s omnipotent power to help deliver the child?”

He turns his back to her and shakes his head, she knows that she has gone a little two far.

Taking a deep calming breath, she lets her arms fall to her sides as she sighs, “The Doctor thinks – No! He knows that he can help, but, I'm afraid that I am already a lost cause.” Feeling that this conversation is moving back into dangerous territory – _like it's hasn't already been there_ – she turns and rests her forehead against the cool surface. Staring out into the abyss, she quietly confides, “Honestly, it’s what I’ve come to expect. One less obstacle to maneuver with seventy years between us and home.”

Standing and rushing to her perch at his window, he gently takes her chin within the crook of his finger and assures, “Regardless of Voyagers situation, I think you would be a great mom.”

Staring at his twinkling eyes reflecting the bright stars just beyond their reach, she lets his encouraging words warm her heart. She desperately wants to believe him, of course, yet, with the darkness creeping out from his cowardly corner, reminding her of their situation, she feels her heart deflate into a ball of nothing. Blindly reaching up to trace the lines of his tattoo with her fingers, she murmurs, "What is it about you that makes me want to tell you everything?” At his furrowed brow, she clarifies, “I haven't told anyone about my miscarriage except for a three people.”

Tipping his head further into her hand, he smoothly tells her, “It's my face.”

Chuckling at his expense, she asks, “Excuse me?”

“I've been told I have an honest face. People apparently are itching at the chance to tell me their deepest, darkest secrets.” Smiling, dimples and all, he winks at her as he rests his hands on her hips.

Rolling her eyes, “whatever,” slides off of her tongue as she leans in and kisses his dimpled cheek. One kiss quickly turns into many as their lips lazily worships each other, memorizing every inch of their skin as if they had all the time in the world.

“I want you to stay the night,” he peppers the curve of her neck with lingering kisses, “I want to make breakfast for you.” The heat of his hardening erection presses against her coiled belly, her muscles clench in anticipation as his fingers begin to explore her excited peaks.

Throwing her head back against the cool reprieve, she shivers under his expert touch as a low, throaty moan escapes through her lips. Gripping his hip bone with one hand and shoving the other over his mouth, she pushes him back and breathily replies, “Hold your horses, Dimples. I have an early morning tomorrow.” Blocking his insistent lips from making contact with her upper body, she gasps when he falls down to his knees.

Staring from the bony points of her hips, he nips and licks his way towards her center, careful to avoid the neediest area; an act that he knows drives her to the brink of insanity. “I want you to stay.” The heat of his words collides against her folds as his hands charge up the back of her thighs.

Palming the window with one hand to steady herself while the other runs through his hair, she stammers, “I – ummm – should be – hmmm – leaving.” Just as the last word leaves her breathless mouth, he flicks his tongue along her clit, making her legs damn near impossible to stand on.

“But I don't want you to leave.” He places his hand behind her knee and helps maneuver her leg over his shoulder. “It has been a rather long time since I have had the pleasure of making out with your body.”

“This – ohhh – obsession…,” she gasps when his finger easily glides through her folds. Gripping the back of his head, she presses her hips into his face as he adds another finger inside her. Biting her bottom lip, she tries to untangle her words from her mouth, “This obsession with making out is – oh, yes, right there! – a little unnerving.” Striking several nerves at just the right angle, her mind begins to spin and twirl as her orgasm blossoms in the pit of her belly.

Just as her body is coming down from its high, he begins to slowly pump his fingers in her again when he confesses against her tingling skin, "You are my obsession.”

Swallowing whatever moisture she could find in her dry mouth, she lazily flicks her eyes down at him and hums, “That can be dangerous.”

Tracing his tongue along her inner thigh down to the crook of the knee over his shoulder, he glances back up to see her stormy eyes boring into him. Letting her leg fall down to the side of him, he huskily confides, "Before I knew you, I was obsessed with revenge. I wanted to hurt the people who made my family and my friends suffer. I wanted to kill them. I wanted to feel their warm, just-slaughtered blood on my hands. For a long time, anytime I had killed an enemy was the moment I felt most alive. That is, until I met you.”

Leaning back on his toes, he keeps one hand on her hip and the other at the junction between her legs as he stands and steps deeper into her personal space. “Now instead of revenge, I want peace. Instead of using my hands to kill, I want to use them to make you feel as perfectly harmonious as the way you make me feel. If that makes you **_my_** obsession, then I figure there are other things in life that are far worse.” Slipping his thoroughly coated fingers out from her, he spreads her excitement along his now uncovered cock before grabbing both thighs and lifting her up so that he is poised at her entrance. Steadying himself by the vice grip around the bottom of her ass, he buries himself deeply inside her.

Throwing her arms around his shoulder to keep herself from falling, she meets her hips with his thrust-to-every-delicious-thrust. Threading her nails along the short hair at base of his neck, she bites down on her lip to keep from screaming out when she feels his teeth clamps down on her nipple. Her head bangs against the window, she slams her eyes shut as the same intoxicating sensations prickles along her skin.

With his fluid movement unraveling into an erratic beat to keep up with her rushing demands, he latches onto a stretch of her skin just below her collarbone.

“Ohh, Chakotay…,” she murmurs against his ear as she reaches her peak.

Letting the slick window hold her weight as he thrusts against her, it is not too long until he reaches his climax. Resting his head against her chest, he softly quips, “How was that for obsession?”

“I’d say you should obsess more.” Looking down from her perch with a sly smirk and twinkling eyes, she yelps when she sees the angry red mark along her collar bone, “You gave me a hickey!”

Returning his own smile with dimples for days, he cockily shrugs, “You didn't seem to mind.” Placing gentle kisses over the inflamed area, he then pulls back with a groan and settles her down. Grasping her hand, they walk into the bathroom to clean up.

Returning back into his bedroom, he fixes the sheets before inviting her in. At her hesitation, he dramatically pulls down her side of the blanket and coos, “I get cold at night.”

Furrowing her brow at his lighthearted attempts to get her to stay, she seriously tells him,  “I wasn't playing hard-to-get when I said that I have early morning.” Crossing her arms, her feet stand firm at her perch between his bed and her long line of discarded clothes.

Biting down on his lip, he tugs on the lobe of his ear as he slowly says, “We haven't been with each other for a few months. I understand that, with our busy command schedules, it's hard to fit our own personal time in. So when I have the chance to spend our precious time together, I treat it as such.”

Still undecided if she should stay or leave, she looks out of his window as she bites down on her bottom lip.

“I will set the alarm two hours before the beginning of your shift, that way you will have enough time to get ready and to have breakfast with me. Plus, the shift change won't occur until an hour after that, so the corridor will be clear to make your escape.”

Conceding to his logical reasoning, she slips under the covers and lays her head on the pillow he has deemed to be hers. “There will be no hanky-panky when we wake up.”

Typing in the console next to his bed the hour he wants the alarm to sound, he glances over his shoulder and quips with a conspiratorial grin, “Right, then I should set the alarm three hours before your shift.”

Playfully slapping his bare shoulder, she cuddles against him as he lays down next to her. “Maybe, if you don't wake me up with your snores, then we can do a little hanky-panky.”

Sliding his arm underneath her shoulders and pressing her body closer to his own, he replies indignantly, “I don't snore, so that task will be easy to accomplish.”

Rolling her sleepy eyes as she curls into his side, she yawns, “You snore. Now go to sleep, we have an early morning rise in a few hours.”

Closing his heavy eyes, “yes, ma'am” barely leaves his lips when his mind begins its descent into dream world.


End file.
